All Shall Be Well
by Slayergirl
Summary: Set at the end of Dead to the World, what might have happened if Sookie had been honest with Eric about what had happened between them.
1. All Shall Be Well

**A/N: A story in three parts, set at the end of 'Dead to the World'. The title is from the words of Julian of Norwich: 'All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.' And all shall be well for our favourite couple, too, if they're open and honest with each other...**

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"Did we make love?" he asked hopefully. "Did you finally yield to me, Sookie? It's only a matter of time, of course." He grinned at me.

I didn't answer him, instead diverting the conversation to other things, but eventually, Eric came back round to me. "Something more is wrong with you," he said, looking down at me where I sat perched dejectedly on my old single bed.

"Yes, lots of stuff is wrong with me," I told him wearily. I wanted to hug him, but how could I, without complicating everything? I'd been about to carry on talking, but a wave of sadness washed over me. Would I ever get to hug him like that again?

He took a step forward towards me. "Sookie, what has happened?" he asked gently. "Your emotions are all over the place. Why this sadness?" I sucked in a deep breath as he took a step closer, and he halted immediately. Worry crept over his face. "Did I hurt you?" I looked blankly at him. "Sookie," he said again, and I could hear the urgency in his voice, "Sookie, tell me, did I hurt you, not knowing you?" He looked almost panicked; I could only stare. Hurt me? No, not once. "Did I…" his eyes closed in pain, "did I force you?"

I closed my eyes, shaking my head, though of course he couldn't see it; he only heard the quiet whimper that escaped me. I heard a thud, and opened my eyes cautiously.

The vampire sheriff of Area 5 had dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes still closed, and a look of abject horror on his face. "Oh, no," he whispered. "Oh, please, gods, _no_."

He looked so utterly distraught, it shocked me to the core – but even more shocking were the tracks of bloody tears coming from his still-closed eyes. "Eric…" I gulped; I couldn't let him think that. "Eric, no," I said softly. "You didn't hurt me. Didn't force me."

He opened his eyes, a look of wild hope in them, but his voice was still gruff when he said, "don't lie to spare my feelings."

I reached out tentatively and patted his shoulder. "I'm not, I swear, I was will-" Oh, crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap.

He didn't joke, though, or make any outrageous comments; he just rocked back on his heels, and regarded me for a moment. "Why this sadness, then?" he asked softly.

Inappropriate, maybe, but I started giggling. "Well, how would you feel if the person who'd told you that you were the best lover they'd ever had suddenly didn't remember a thing about it, you ass?"

One corner of his mouth turned up into a slight grin. "It would take a lot of very powerful magic for that to happen, for them to forget me," he said.

Great; welcome back, Eric. "She was a very powerful witch," I replied evenly.

"So I can hardly be held responsible for not remembering," he said triumphantly.

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't say you were responsible," I huffed.

He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "But you were hurt," he said gently.

"Isn't nice to be forgotten," I said, that sadness threatening me again.

Eric stood up, but rather than leaving me sitting there on the bed to do whatever he had to do, he sat beside me, and nudged me gently with his shoulder. "You could always try jogging my memory," he teased.

I felt my lips quirk unwillingly into a smile. "I have to go to work soon."

"How soon?" he pouted. Lord preserve me from pouting Viking vampires; I seem to have a weakness for them. Well, this one, anyway.

"Half an hour or so," I shrugged.

He gave me a speculative look. "Half an hour is not time enough to do all the things I want to do with you, my lover." He sprawled back on the bed, and tugged me down beside him, his arm wrapped around me as he snuggled me to sprawl across his chest.

"What about Pam? Fangtasia?"

"They've managed for a week," he said comfortably. "They can spare me half an hour more."

Well, I guess you couldn't really argue with that logic. I certainly wasn't going to, anyway, I decided, as I laid my head down on his chest, and closed my eyes, feeling his fingers playing with my hair. "I think it's going to snow," I said drowsily, relaxing against him.

"Snow? Here?" he said, every bit as delighted as a child. "I love the snow."

"Big kid," I commented.

He chuckled. "Maybe we could get snowed in together," he said suggestively.

I laughed. "I quite like the sound of that."

"I shall call my people and make it so," he said gravely. A glance up at him showed his eyes were dancing, and I gave him a half-hug and dropped a kiss on his broad (sadly, completely clothed) chest. "Any time you want to do that again, feel free," he purred.

I groaned. "Not before I go to work," I sighed. "Or I'll never drag myself out of the house."

"Tell the shifter you are injured?" he suggested.

"Oh, no. He'd only come up here to make sure I was okay," I said. No way was I going to do that.

"Perhaps I should just kidnap you," he grinned. "Fly you away to my lair in Shreveport and make love to you all night long." He gave me a serious look. "All in the name of getting my memories back, of course."

I shook my head, but I was laughing. "Eric, I have to go to work. Really."

"Very well. But I will await your return here, and go back to Shreveport tomorrow night." His eyes glinted, and I felt myself perking up.

"I'll be tired when I get in," I warned him.

"Then we will snuggle," he said calmly.

Right. Well. I guess that gave me something to think about and look forward to while I was working. "What about Pam?"

"I'll call her," he shrugged. "She is more than capable of holding the fort at Fangtasia. I will tell her I have… things to attend to here," he grinned.

I went to work in a decidedly more cheerful mood.


	2. And All Shall Be Well

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favourites, and follows; they mean the world to me. Herewith the second part; one more to come after this.**

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We went to Hotshot to find Jason – Sam and I – via my house, ostensibly so I could change out of my uniform, but also so that I could let Eric know what was happening. He frowned, and insisted on coming with us, much to Sam's irritation – but, I have to say, I was glad of his powerful presence close to me. He didn't deign to involve himself with the were-panthers, but God knows, he can loom threateningly if he needs to, all broad-chested, muscular, six foot five of him, and that does have its uses.

It also has its uses that he has a devious, intelligent mind, and can think of relatively believable stories for a person to go missing – and if necessary glamour the investigating police into believing the story. That really does come in handy, however little I like to admit it.

Still, eventually we got Jason to his house, the bites cleaned and bandaged up, and a good meal inside him; Sam offered to stay with him and keep an eye on him. I was grateful for that; I reckoned that Sam would be in a better place to talk to him about shifting, in case he needed any information or reassurance, than I would be. Eric took my keys from me wordlessly, and drove me back home. I was too tired to do anything but brush my teeth and change into a nightgown. I couldn't help but soften, though, as I came out of the bathroom to see Eric lounging in my bed. He raised his eyebrows as he saw my attire – he was clearly buck-naked, as I could see his clothes folded on my chair – but stretched an arm out to me, and I clambered into bed beside him. "Bringing back any memories?" I asked softly as I snuggled up to him.

"No. Perhaps you should remove your… nightgown," he said, with a frown at it. "That might help."

"Nice try," I said, but I was amused more than anything.

He gave me a quick grin. "Wasn't that the plan? Or are you hoping I'll seduce you all over again?" I sucked in a breath. _Oh God, yes please_. He propped himself up on one elbow, and looked down at me. "Or did you seduce me?"

"I wouldn't take advantage!" I said indignantly.

He chuckled. "I thought as much. So, I seduced you, then?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much."

"How?"

I blinked. Oh, no. We were _so_ not going to have this conversation. "What do you mean, 'how'?" I demanded. I should really listen to myself when I say I'm not going to have a conversation – I always seem to end up having it, regardless.

"What happened?" At my stubborn silence, he shifted so that he was propped up on both forearms, one either side of me, as he lay on top of me. "Which room, at least," he murmured, lips dropping to my ear. They might as well have been on a completely different part of my anatomy, from the reaction he got out of me.

"Shower," I gasped out.

"In the shower itself?" he asked, nibbling a little my ear.

"Yes." A little shiver ran pleasantly all the way down to my toes.

"Mm… did we decide to share a shower? To conserve hot water, perhaps?" he asked, the barest lilt of laughter in his voice.

Right, because that would be completely normal, wouldn't it, Eric? "Ah, no. You followed me in there."

He chuckled, and I could feel the vibrations going all the way through me. "Did I, now? Why would that be?"

"Because you had a good idea of how I was feeling, I guess," I replied, just a little breathless.

"And how was that, my darling?"

Oh God. It did all sorts of wonderful things to me when he called me that. "Umm…"

His tongue flicked out to caress the sensitive spot behind my ear, and I shivered. "Were you aroused?"

I gulped. "Yes."

His voice seemed to drop about an octave. "Are you now?" God help me, I whimpered. "I'll take that as a yes," he commented, as if he didn't know, moving his hips ever so slightly in a way that made me moan quietly at the feel of him against me. "What had happened to arouse you, lover?"

Hearing him call me 'lover' did some pretty wonderful things to me, as well. "I, ah, I walked in on you changing," I stuttered, flushing. And oh, sweet Lord, his body would arouse a nun, and I am no nun.

"Mm-hmm," he encouraged. "So, in the shower?"

"You… washed me," I gasped, as his tongue did something that should probably have been illegal to my neck, "and massaged my shoulders."

I clearly wasn't the only one aroused. "What then? Did you wash me as well?"

"Yes," I choked out. And, oh... memories of droplets of water on his bare skin... yum.

"Any more to the shower scene?" he asked raggedly.

"Oh, yes." It came out more as a moan of pleasure than a response to his question.

"Tell me." He grinned, and I could see his fangs were out. "Or show me."

Oh, holy… I was supposed to be tired. And all I wanted to do was to jump him. "There was a fair amount of kissing and… touching," I said, a little uncomfortably.

"Touching where?" He rolled slightly to one side, and ran one hand down my front, thumb circling and caressing. "Here?" It slid further down, and skilled fingers teased gently. "Here?"

"Umm… both…" I managed to gasp.

His fingers continued their teasing. "I remember that you like this," he said softly.

"Mm?" I couldn't get more coherent than that right now.

"Jackson," he said briefly. Oh, yes; just before Bubba interrupted us. I closed my eyes and whimpered as he flexed a finger inside me. "Look at me, lover."

I gave a strangled moan, and opened my eyes, staring at him. Then his mouth was on mine, my hands were all over him, and his fingers were doing some unbelievable, incredible things to me. I cried out into his kiss as he curled his fingers suddenly, hitting a spot inside me that sent me flying, hips bucking up to his in need.

Oh, wow.

"Memories?" I gasped.

He shook his head, with a smile. "That wasn't about remembering, Sookie, my darling."

"No?"

"No. That," he said, his voice dark and promising, "was about pleasuring you."


	3. And All Manner Of Thing Shall Be Well

**A/N: apologies, but this is the final part of this story. There may, at some point, be sequels, if the plot bunny visits and is kind; but for the moment, I think we'll leave them in bed together...**

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Oh, dear sweet Lord, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Eric the amnesiac had been… incredible, skilled, wonderful. Eric, this Eric – real, devastatingly sexy and knowing Eric – seemed to be able to get my pulse racing just from talking and the tiniest amount of fondling. Granted, the talking was about sex – with him (and the memories of that made me ache with longing for more) – but even so… I was glad to be lying down, as I didn't think my knees would have borne my weight at that point. Certainly, I seemed to have misplaced all of my bones somewhere along the way. Maybe the excess heat in the room had melted them.

I gazed up at him, and was surprised when, very gently, he traced the contours of my face with his fingertips. "My beautiful lover," he murmured, bending to kiss me.

I might pull back from a lot of people if they tried to kiss me, but Eric wasn't one of them; I realised that, no matter what, I'd always be happy for him to kiss me, whether with his memories or without them. Even before I'd taken him in, I'd enjoyed it the few times he'd kissed me before, even though I knew I really shouldn't; I'd been with Bill, then. I let my eyes flutter closed, and wrapped my arms around his neck with a small sound of contentment. Being kissed by Eric was very high on my things-I-love-doing list. Actually, there were a lot of things involving Eric that were very high on my things-I-love-doing list. I wondered how many of them we'd be able to get in before he had to go to ground, or I fell asleep - whichever was the earlier. I tried to stifle a yawn, but wasn't quite quick enough.

"Tired?" He pulled back, and one of his hands stroked my side gently. I gave a hum of pleasure in response.

"Kind of," I replied. "Relaxed but alert."

"Slowly, then," he murmured, going back to kissing me. And slow it was – slower than he'd ever taken it before. He was careful as he slid into me, and barely moved, just rocking his hips gently. I quivered as he pressed tiny, light kisses to my face, neck, shoulders – anywhere he could – and sighed. "Good?"

"Very." Very, very, very good.

"As good as before?" He sounded hopeful.

I giggled a little. "You're trying to compete _with yourself?_" Somehow, that didn't really surprise me.

He chuckled. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

"I don't think you could ever be a disappointment," I told him truthfully.

He smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. You didn't answer the question," he reminded me, his hips still moving gently.

"Honestly?" I breathed, feeling the tell-tale edge approaching fast. I wouldn't last much longer.

"Honestly."

"Much, much better than before," I gasped, and clenched around him in release as he gave a tiny twist of his hips. His own release followed soon after.

We lay in silence for a few moments, before he spoke again.

"I was right," he murmured, pulling me close.

"About what?"

"You _are_ the best lover I've ever had." I felt my throat tighten; it meant an awful lot more coming from Eric, with his memories intact, than it had done when I was the only lover he could remember. Then he said something that completely took my breath away. "And I do… have feelings for you, however difficult that is for me to accept and understand, after so long not feeling these things. And I do want you by my side, no matter what." Then he whispered, teasingly, "and I think you would like my 'gracious plenty' inside you again."

I jerked against him, partly in lust, and partly in shock. "You remember."

"Every sigh… every kiss… every caress…" he murmured. "Can't remember for the life of me what I did with the body, but perhaps that's for the best."

Oh, _hell_. "Yes, about that," I began nervously.

"Hush, my darling, better things to be doing," he said, tracing a vein from my breast up my neck with his tongue.

"But, um…"

"Not important," he said firmly.

"I killed someone!"

He shrugged, refusing to be distracted from his task. "Self-defence, it was you or her. I prefer you."

"Me too, but…"

He raised his head, looking amused. "Lover, we'll talk about it later if you really want to. This is _not_ the time."

Well, okay. I could live with that, even if he'd been the one who brought it up in the first place. "When did you remember?"

He smiled, and dipped his head again. "When I came inside you, my darling." Hearing him say that did something to me, I can tell you. "You like me calling you that… you like the way I talk to you about our love-making." I shuddered helplessly – God help me, I did, and I couldn't deny it.

"Eric…"

"More?" he purred.

Tiredness seemed a thing of the past. I whimpered in encouragement.

"You are so wonderfully insatiable," he grinned. "On your side, my darling."

He spooned behind me, arms around me, pulling me back against his chest as he moved inside me. "Feels so good," I murmured.

"So it should," he said in response, lips brushing my neck. "Yes?"

I felt myself tighten around him immediately, knowing what he was asking, a little surprised - and touched - that he hadn't asked before. "Yes."

I gave a breathy sob of pleasure as his fangs sank into me, and his hands gently teased and caressed my breasts.

"I'm never going to want you to leave my bed," I gasped as I came down from my high.

He chuckled. "Well, that was the idea," he said unashamedly. "But as your room isn't light-proof, we might have to reconvene in my bed at some point."

I gave a pleasurable shiver; in his bed there'd be no need for him to slip away before dawn, and that was an idea that pleased me no end. "Okay." Right then, it sounded like the best idea in the world.

He nibbled at the back of my neck. "Tomorrow night, perhaps?"

"Hmm... yes..." I murmured sleepily. No matter how I tried to keep my eyes open, they were determined to close.

He tucked the covers close around us, and held me a little closer. "Sleep, then, my lover," he murmured. "All shall be well."

**Finis**


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